A Matched Set
by Trinity Everett
Summary: This time, it's not Tony getting caught looking in the mirror. Third story in the "Tummy" Series. Tony/Michelle


**Title:** A Matched Set

**Fandom**: 24

**Characters:** Michelle Dessler/Tony Almeida

**Word Count:** 689

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** This time, it's not Tony getting caught looking in the mirror.

**Author's Notes:** I lovingly call this Tummy!fic3, because it's the third story in that universe. I hadn't been intending on writing another one, but this sort of popped out the other day.

* * *

In the months they had been back together, he'd been discovered doing it many times, but it was the first time he'd caught her at it; studying her appearance in the vanity mirror. He wondered what she was looking for, because all he saw was his wife looking beautiful as always. Her hair was bundled in a messy knot, leaving the soft, creamy curve of her neck exposed and he had to refrain from pressing his face into her baby soft skin. She was in her underwear - simple white cotton should never be that sexy - and he couldn't help but rake his eyes up and down her body. She was gorgeous. She didn't need to study her body in the mirror like that.

She turned to one side, scrutinizing her profile. Her shoulders lifted and lowered and she straightened and relaxed her back. He felt almost voyeuristic watching her trace her fingers across her collar and over the swell of her chest, but he stayed, propped up in the doorway. He bit back the groan as her hands dipped lower and she cupped her breasts.

Regaining his breath, he straightened up. "I vote no."

Michelle jumped, her hands falling away from her body. He thought she had seen him watching her, but she must have been so intent on her self-examination that she'd tuned him out. He shrugged sheepishly, apologizing for scaring her. She smiled in return, leaning one hip on the counter and cocking her head to the side.

"What're you voting no about?"

"You look like you're contemplating a boob job. My vote's no." He crossed his arms over his chest, biting his bottom lip and grinning.

Michelle laughed, shaking her head. "No, Tony."

He nodded, scratching his cheek with a grin. "Good."

She crooked her finger at him, raising an eyebrow. "C'mere, honey."

She didn't need to tell him twice. He took the distance between them in two steps, slipping his arms across her body and pulling her in close. Michelle hummed, holding onto the back of his arm, resting her cheek against his collar.

"Can you tell?" she asked softly, glancing up at him.

He shook his head, kissing her temple. "Not yet. Is that what you were looking for?"

She hummed in affirmation, shifting and taking hold of his hand, pressing both their fingers against her warm flesh. He glanced over at her in the mirror, trying to study her the same way she was studying herself. Her breasts were bigger, he saw, but her stomach was just as flat as ever. She would start showing soon, but for right now, it was their – exciting, terrifying, thrilling – little secret.

"We don't match just yet," he teased, taking her hand off her stomach and settling it on his. Michelle snorted.

"Yeah, well, it's _your_ tummy that got us into this."

He made a face at her in the mirror, squeezing her tightly and slipping his hand into the waistband at the back of her panties. "I don't think my stomach is the part of my anatomy that's to blame, Michelle." He pinched her ass lightly.

She laughed, lifting his shirt from his pants and pressing her hands against his skin.

"I suppose that's true," she admitted, pressing her lips together with a small smile. "But, it _was_ your sexercise routine."

He grinned, kissing the smirk from her face.

"Either way," he murmured nonchalantly, lightly caressing her back. He wasn't very good at expressing it, but he hoped she knew anyway. This baby, their fresh start, it meant everything to him. "You'll get your own tummy soon enough," he teased, his voice huskier than he'd expected it to be. Michelle nodded in agreement, pressing her cheek against his. "You ready to hit the sack?" he asked.

Michelle pulled away slightly and he felt her fingers pressing warmly against his back despite the loss of contact. Before he knew it, she'd lifted his shirt over his head and was reaching for the buckle on his belt. Her hips pushed against his suggestively and she slid her mouth across his shoulder. "Something like that," she drawled.

fin.


End file.
